


Mutual Domesticity

by JayRain



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: A Very Clever Nug, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Minrathous, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:16:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayRain/pseuds/JayRain
Summary: Several years back Dorian Pavus never would havedreamedof suggesting mutual domesticity; but now that he has it, he can't imagine why he ever thought it would be a bad thing.





	Mutual Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schattenriss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattenriss/gifts).



> _Kai Trevelyan is the insistent first-person narrator of the works of Schattenriss; Swivet is his Very Clever Pet Nug. I hope neither of them mind that I took them out for a spin. It was for a good cause. PS, go read Schattenriss's stories. You won't be disappointed._

 

During the Inquisition Years (which would make a lovely title for a memoir, should I ever be inclined to write one), I became known for working late.  Many times I could be found working by candlelight in my cozy alcove of the library, perfectly appointed near the main stairway.  In case anyone of note should walk by, you see.  Yes, yes, by  _ anyone  _ I do mean Kai, thank you very much.  Alas, this is what I get when I wax poetic.  But yes, I would be found there at all hours: from sunset, by moonlight, and at sunrise reading, translating, jotting down notes, and all manner of scholarly pursuits.  In addition to the obvious perks of the Inquisition (and yes, I do mean Kai, does one never tire of bringing up the obvious?) I rather enjoyed the opportunities afforded me to work late, engaged in study.

However,  _ working late _ as a Magister in the heart of Minrathous was hardly as enjoyable.  For one, Kai was unlikely to walk past my place of work, with the slight swagger and hint of a knowing grin that vexes me in all the best possible ways.  More often than not it was a harried page, or a self-important politician, and no one was ever quite as interesting as the one who awaited me at home.

And this night I worked late, grimacing as the sun cast ever more oblique angles, and finally frowning, wrinkles be damned, as it grew dark.  In the city below streetlamps winked on, triggered by magic sensitive to the daylight.  Globes of warm yellow light lit the hallway outside my open office door.  And still the piles of correspondence did not seem to shrink, regardless of my diligent reading and writing, and finally resentful glares I shot their way.

At long last I sealed the last letter with the Pavus signet ring and signaled a spirit to fetch a courier.  The gangly boy who came in was all limbs, bobbing and flailing about like a marionette puppet. I would have found it amusing, were I not so bent on leaving the confines of my office. As such, I’m afraid I was a bit short with him, causing more head-bobbing and limb-flailing that added to the time it took to extract myself from my office.  As a result I was a bit short-tempered when I exited the Magisterium, and may have been stomping home (though merely from fatigue, I assure you; of the two of us, Kai is the master of all things pique-related.  He will also be the first to admit this is true.)

Of course such thoughts were enough to lessen the severity of my gait, and perhaps even bring a bit of a smile to my visage.  Yes, I’d worked late; but unlike so many late nights in Minrathous prior, this night I would be greeted upon my arrival home, and by more than just the household staff.  I would be lying if I denied walking faster at the prospect.

While Kai had spent time in my Minrathous home--or rather  _ our _ Minrathous home, now--this night was different.  He had just recently permanently relocated to Tevinter.  We no longer had the vague threat of a departure date hanging over us when we were together.  He was prone to moments of pique, but they were fewer and farther between.  And let’s face it, if he wasn’t piqueish, I would have to wonder if he were feeling ill.  No longer did it feel as if we were living in two worlds, or that our time together at home was a pleasant dream, from which we would undoubtedly, and unpleasantly, wake.

No, this was permanent, and by now I found it nigh impossible to keep myself from jogging the rest of the way home.  Lovesick though I am, I am also a Magister, thank you very much.  I have my dignity.

When I entered our home a servant took my overcoat and assisted me in removing my boots.  The house was temperate, the result of spirits keeping the temperature under control--something Skyhold sorely lacked.  Damned southerners and their fear of magic; even though… no, especially since it can be so practical.  No need to suffer for the fun of it, though some of those Chantry types seemed to enjoy it in ways I’d rather not fathom.

The smell of roasted meats wafted from the dining room, and even though I am a dignified Magister from of one of the Imperium’s most distinguished bloodlines, my stomach rumbled.  Of course, my curiosity also piqued (the good kind of pique, not the insufferable--stop looking at me like that, Kai, you know it is insufferable at times--kind).

I strode deeper into the house and found Kai in the library.  I’d moved quietly and stood in the doorway for a moment.  He was stretched out on a sofa, an open book propped on his chest.   _ I _ knew it was likely one of those pulpy adventure novels he adores so much, even though the shelves were lined with priceless and unique tomes about magical theory and study that one would never find down south.  People might-- gasp-- learn something!

Kai rested his head on a bolster. Fine stubble shadowed his head, which he preferred to shave.  Luckily I have excellent hair, that serves well enough for the both of us.  His long legs were crossed at the ankles, and our pet nug, Swivet, rested on his stomach: rising and falling with each breath Kai took, occasionally letting out a sleepy, contented trill.  One long finger flipped the page, and the corner of his mouth twitched: something humorous, no doubt.  I nearly asked, but found myself…

I almost cannot write it.  It is difficult to admit that I, Dorian Pavus, was rendered…

Speechless.

The sight of my  _ Amatus _ with our pet nug, so casually relaxed on the sofa rendered me unable to speak, only able to stand in the doorway looking in on this tableau of serene domesticity.

“I know you’re there, Dorian, and I hope you’re enjoying the view,” Kai said without looking up.  Swivet, however, did raise his head and launched himself off of Kai’s stomach, causing Kai to grunt in a most unbecoming manner.

“Good evening, Swivet,” I said, entering the room and dropping to one knee.  The chocolate-brown nug trilled most appreciatively as he scampered over to me.  He sat back on his haunches and nudged my hand so I would scratch behind his ears.

Kai swung his legs over the edge of the sofa and set the book aside.  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and watched for a moment.  “So do I need to grow out my ears and hop around naked to get a greeting from you too?” he asked.

“No to the ears, though I’d not say no to the latter suggestion.”  The mere thought had me quivering, though I am a master of disguising my emotions.  Fine, when I  _ want _ to be, and this time I didn’t want to disguise it.  I’d come home to my  _ Amatus, _ relaxing in  _ our _ home.  He would never have to leave Tevinter again, if he didn’t wish to.  I joined him on the sofa.  He tilted his head to the side, waiting, with that teasing half-smirk on his face and…  _ venedhis, _ were his grey eyes smoldering?

“Welcome home,” he said, and I wrapped my arms around him and let him know just how pleased I was that I had arrived home, to this, to him.

Even though dinner was likely waiting he had drinks brought to help us unwind a bit.  Swivet came bounding over with his stuffed cat, and Kai and I took turns tossing it for him to fetch.  Kai told me about his day spent rebuffing the Chantry and reading and studying; I told him what I could about our upcoming legislative session.  After a short time it was I who was lying back on the sofa, my head in Kai’s lap with one of his hands resting on my chest, the other holding his beer.

“You know,” I began, trying to sit up, but his hand was firm and strong and kept me pinned to his lap--not that I would complain.  “I seem to recall at one time saying that I didn’t have it in mind to suggest mutual domesticity.”

Kai smiled and set down his empty beer bottle.  “I do recall that.  It made sense at the time.  Though I confess I sometimes remembered you saying that, throughout last year, particularly when I was in Hasmal and missing you fiercely.”

“And moping?”

“And moping.”

“I’d love to go back and throttle that version of myself, you know,” I told him.  He quirked an eyebrow.  “The poor sot had no idea just how lovely mutual domesticity would be.”

Kai gasped, one hand over his heart.  “Are you, Dorian Pavus, admitting you were wrong about something?”

I reached up and touched a finger to his lips.  “Quiet, you.  I don’t want the neighbors hearing.”

“You may want to silence the room later this evening then.”

“Because you’re going to tell me just how wrong I am, and very loudly, after dinner?”

“Euphemistically?  Yes.”

I grinned.  “I do love you so, Kai Trevelyan.”  I rose and extended my hand to him.  “We’d better get started on dinner, then.  I have a feeling I’ve been very wrong, in many ways.”

And yes, perhaps I had, but at least this: us, together in Minrathous permanently, this was so very right.


End file.
